Monday, April 02, 2007

Dog Mountain made my Dogs Bark

Friday, Billy's last day of spring break (during which he graded final exams, developed syllabi for new classes, did chores around the house, and amused me), we decided to take a day and drive up the gorge. I've always been interested in hiking Dog Mountain, so we made that our plan. After getting a rather late start, we traveled through the sunny midmorning to the bridge of the gods, through Stevenson, Washington, and past sloughs and birds to the trailhead.
Dog Mountain, as you can learn from the link, is a 28oo foot mountain that gains 1000 feet in every half mile during the first part of the hike. Billy needed some personal time for reflection partway up, so he sat with his back to a tree and thought about life and work and why he was in a bad mood. Here is a photograph of him checking his messages, which was someone from PSU offering him two new classes. I made it to half a mile from the very top, which was about 3.3 miles each way. The view at the top was pretty great, and amazing because we'd started down at the bottom near the Columbia River.
Unfortunately, Billy had to put up with my groaning and whining all weekend anytime I walked up or down the stairs. He, of course, was fine. (All that mountain climbing in his past, no doubt.)

3 comments:

Linda M. said...

Mama Linda is always delighted to read about the Life and Times of Katy and Billy.
What a view! thanks!

Anonymous said...

Leave the ways of techno-world behind when entering the realm of Nature.
Commune with the spirit ways of sunlight and hear the voices of bird, wind and stream. Bring the outer peace within and calm the mind from daily paths. Hold each other’s hand and let the whisper of wind call to your inner child.
Play in the gardens of Nature can cast song upon the winds of destiny. BAP

Linda M. said...

The last article/pictures doesn't have a place for comments. Jim left a comment too, but haven't seen it yet. Did it work? Thanks for sharing your journey. We can't be there in person, but we are there in our hearts.

Love, Mama Linda